


Barrington For America

by TrulyGeeky



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyGeeky/pseuds/TrulyGeeky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbey Barrington is impressed with her new campaign spokesperson, C.J. Cregg. While the team handles the trials and tribulations of running for President, Abbey and C.J. form a connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Girl From California

“Toby!” Size 7 heels hit the linoleum floor rhythmically.

“Yes!” Shuffling out into the lobby, the man in question appeared with typical brooding eyes. “Good morning, Governor Barrington,” He said gracefully to the woman before him, who was shedding the layers of clothing she wore in defense against the bitter New Hampshire air. She removed her cashmere coat along with gloves and a brown hat, revealing a deep teal skirt and matching suit jacket.

“Walk to my office with me,” She lead the way with a triumphant, if not indignant, gait.

“I know you weren’t too happy with those last polling numbers,” Toby began with a grumble, the slightest hint of placation in his tone.

The click of the heels grew louder and more forceful.

“But you can’t say we didn’t expect it,” He continued in vain.

They were rounding the corner as she ushered her speechwriter into the coldly-lit office, slamming the door behind them.

“It’s only a temporary setback--not even a setback--Governor!”

“Oh, shove it up your ass! You call me Abbey,” The governor whirled around to face him.

“Alright. Abbey,” Toby seemed unperturbed. “Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

“Why, in fact, I am!” She plummeted into her seat, staring at Toby in a way that could bore holes through his head.

“Then I don’t understand why you’re so _irate_! We talked about this! The idea of a woman, an _unmarried woman_ , being president is not going to be the most popular in some of the states,” Toby’s voice rose, and then he put his hands on his head and sighed, calming his tone. “I’m just saying that not everyone’s going to like you. And that’s a truth for any candidate, Abbey. There are some places where you’re not going to win. But it’s not going to be everywhere.”

She just looked up at him for a second and then slowly spread her lips to reveal a smile. She kicked off her shoes.

“Damn all you people who know what to say,” She turned to him happy-eyed. “But I guess that’s why I hired you.”

“Indeed it is, Governor Barring-”

“Abbey!”

“Abbey! Abigail! Sorry, excuse me!” He said in a mock tirade. The two caught eyes and laughed for a few seconds until they lapsed into silence. 

“So,” Abbey started. “What’s on the docket for today?”

“I can’t wait until we get someone else to do this,” Toby opened a folder in his hands. “Top staff briefing in the morning. Leo comes in at 10:30-”

“He and Jed have a nice anniversary?”

“Now how am I supposed to know that?” Toby continued to his boss’s amusement. “Oh, and your new campaign spokesperson shows up at 11:00.”

“The Emily’s List woman?”

“The very one.”

“Make sure an assistant clears out her office, will you?”

“Of course. I’ll be gone for a bit to pick her up from the airport.”

“You’re the one doing that?”

“I figured it’s best since she knows me,” He said, stepping through the threshold.

Abbey grinned and called back to him: “Don’t frighten her off!”

\- - -

“Toby’s back!” Leo ducked his head into Abbey’s office.

“With the woman?” Abbey sat up in her cheap office chair.

“With the woman!” Her campaign manager called back. 

With an excuse to put down her _absolutely riveting_ paperwork, she abandoned her desk and made her way into the lobby, eager to lay eyes on her new employee.

Abbey saw a woman who was all Hollywood. Not in a way like she was done-up and stupid, but like she was too smart to really be happy there. Her hair was tan and waved and she wore the thin pastels of a west-coast media lady, a contradiction to frigid New England. Abbey tried not to broadcast her gracious smile as she swept her eyes up the woman’s shivering legs.

“This is C.J. Cregg,” Toby started, ushering her into the room and offering to take her entirely too-thin brown coat that swayed along her thighs. She refused and hung her untied coat and scarf herself, glaring at Toby. 

“Your Press Secretary,” Toby finished as CJ stepped and thrust her hand forward. Abbey smiled as they shook. She liked her; she was magnetic.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” CJ said with a thousand-watt smile that made Abbey not care that she called her ma’am. An amused grunt and chuckle from Toby reminded her that she needed to reply.

“Nice to meet you, too, CJ,” Abbey released her new spokesperson’s long fingers. “And you don’t have to call me ma’am; I prefer my top staff to call me Abbey.”

CJ nodded and her hair bounced. _Top staff_ , she thought. _I could get used to that._

“Why don’t we go talk in my office,” Abbey motioned in the direction with a wave and began the walk, CJ in tow. “You must be freezing, didn’t anyone ever tell you how to dress for the cold?”

“Oh, they told me about the cold, but they forgot to mention the sub-arctic wind chill,” CJ replied and Abbey thought to herself how nice it will be to have someone who can sass back to her.

She called out: “Can somebody get this girl a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa?”

Several interns scurried at the order.

The two women laughed as they entered the candidate’s office, Abbey noting how melodic the sound was.

“So, CJ,” Abbey closed the door. “What’s that stand for, anyway?”

\- - -

It was really no surprise that Abbey was so enthralled with her. 

Tall lean legs inside a tight pencil skirt, red lips that could spout a comeback in less than split second; anyone would be hard pressed not to find something appealing.

And she was smart, too. Devilishly so. It had only been a week and already CJ had embedded herself into the campaign, earning unquestioned respect from the other top staff. And she had adjusted to the weather, which Abbey was proud of. Sauntering into the headquarters in thick skirts and slacks, Abbey would look on in wonderment at CJ, questioning how these new outfits still managed to show off her legs.

CJ was a luminous woman. Confident at best, headstrong at worst; but through it all, she was better than Abbey could have ever hoped for.

“What are you thinking about, Abbey?” Leo entered her office, speaking to her glazed-over eyes that bitter morning.

“Nothing,” Abbey answered, forgoing the effort of feigning that she was working. Leo knew her too well for tricks.

“Really?” Leo lowered his voice in his characteristic matter-of-fact manner. “Because it looks an awful lot like you were thinking about something.” 

“And what would that something be?” Abbey asked coyly before she could bite her tongue. 

Leo smirked in a way familiar to Abbey; it was the one he used when he was about to outsmart her in a game of chess. She knew she had made a fatal move.

“I don’t know, Ms. Barrington,” he put on an air of innocence. “I heard we got a new one in from California. Nice girl, real tall. Pretty young too, and single! Have you seen her?”

Abbey just pouted at his smug face, regretting her decision to indulge him.

“C’mon, you were thinking about CJ!”

“Leo!” Abbey threw him an expression of indignation and outrage. “How did you ever get an idea like that?”

“You forget we’ve known each other too long.”

“But when was the last time I got to intrude into your love life?” Abbey huffed. 

“Oh, whenever you introduced me to Jed,” Leo said with a wry frankness.

“You’re full of it!”

“I’m just saying,” he backed away. “You should ask her out for drinks sometime.” 

Although she shooed her old friend from the office, Abbey thought to herself that it wasn’t quite a bad idea after all.

\- - -

CJ was just settling into her new life of politics. Of course, it wasn’t all foreign to her; it had been her plan all along, really. Since Berkeley, at least. It’s just that when the job at Triton Day had plopped itself in her lap, well, who was she to resist a number like 550,000?

But CJ guessed her humanity had won out in the end, depositing her in a small and understaffed campaign that found itself encamped in a New Hampshire storefront replete with peeling paint, mice, and a faulty heating system.

That’s how it went, though. There were upsides too, plenty of them. She could speak her mind (and in fact was expected to), use her expertise (that had long been neglected), and had a female client (freeing her from misogyny--and she wouldn’t admit to herself the other thoughts she had on that matter). 

“CJ,” A dark Toby-shaped shadow appeared on her makeshift desk.

“Yes, Mr. Stormcloud?” She smiled down at the memo she was reading.

“Ha, ha,” He said in his dry way, wandering into the room, if it deserved to be called that.

CJ kept at her reading and Toby at his staring. Silence descending like a blanket on the pair, CJ flicked her eyes up.

“Yes?” she said.

“Hmm?”

“You came in here, Toby. What’s up?”

He paused a second while a small grin spread across CJ’s face. Somehow she had almost managed to forget how strange her old friend was. Almost.

“Your radiator need fixing?” He asked lamely.

“They all do,” she replied. 

“You’re not cold?”

“Everyone is,” she was humoring him.

“Need some more hot cocoa?” He said that last part like it was the most absurd thing he’d heard.

“Toby,” She took off her reading glasses, finally realizing what he was up to. “If you wanted to ask me how I’m doing, you could just say it.”

“But that wouldn’t be as fun,” The jig was up and he knew it.

“There are a lot of much more fun things to do with me,” CJ said with a smirk as she watched Toby’s face transform from blank to alarmed, complete with raised eyebrows.

“Alright,” He said. It was an answer to a question he never asked.

“I’m doing fine,” CJ leaned back in her chair, propping her slender feet on the desktop. “If you were asking.”

“Haven’t gotten hypothermia yet?” He was back to his grumbly self.

“No, Toby, I’m _adjusting_.”

“And wearing extra-wooly socks,” Toby said, pointing with his eyes towards her visible feet.

“Hey, there is no shame in keeping all my toes intact!” she said, but she lowered her feet to the floor once again.

Toby swiftly looked behind him into the corridor. CJ sensed an impending shift in the conversation and wondered what would require checking to see that no one was in earshot. Speaking in a low voice, he approached her desk.

“So, I was right about Barrington?”

“You said she was a good woman.”

“Yes,” he said. “And your impression?”

_Her impression?_

“Well you weren’t lying,” CJ smiled. “She is good. Good speaking, good thinking, good looking.”

Toby chuckled.

“What?”

“So you’re on board with Barrington for America?” He asked with a final deliberate gaze.

“You’d have to tear me out of my seat,” She smiled up at him. CJ could get used to working for an honest woman.

\- - -

The Governor was always in and out of the HQ, her schedule busied by the duty of, well, governing. This led to more than a few very late nights for her, CJ noted, as Abbey seemed unable to resist putting in extra hours on the campaign. CJ was often present herself during these late hours, a side effect of her newness to the area and the fact that the campaign was the only thing in her life right now. It gave her and Abbey a chance to go over some speeches and public statements, photo-ops and functions, and the two women had begun to form a rapport, built from some kind of burgeoning camaraderie.

“CJ?”

It was one such cold New Hampshire night.

“Ms. Barrington?” CJ rounded the corner and faced Abbey’s desk.

“You know anything about the other guy?”

“The other guy?” CJ leaned against the doorframe with a smile.

“The leading Republican,” Abbey gave her a playful glare over her glasses.

“Uh, yeah. I happen to,” She laughed as Abbey motioned her to sit down.

“Yeah?”

“I know he just screwed up big with an answer on food stamps,” She took her seat. “Mr. Macho-American-Hero-Man garbled out something about indulgent freeloaders while managing to throw in some anti-Hispanic sentiment.”

“Well, what else are Republicans for?” The two women laughed, suddenly aware that they were the only ones in the building.

“I’ll have a transcript tomorrow. All that can wait until then,” CJ said, acutely aware that she had kept her eyes locked on a laughing, smiling Abigail Barrington for just slightly too long to be proper, and just slightly too short to be satisfying.

Abbey briefly glanced down at her watch.

“Have you been down to the bar on Main yet?” Seeing as it was only 10:30, Abbey was more than willing to put her time to good use. After all, she didn’t have anything waiting for her at home.

“Yeah, if it’s the one Toby and Josh took me to last week,” CJ tried not to let her smile get too wide.

“Well, how about we go down there for a drink? You said it yourself, there’s not much for me to do right now,” Abbey grinned inside.

“It doesn’t exactly sound like the worst idea,” CJ said with a coy smirk.

“Alright then, let’s get our coats and we’ll walk, okay?” Abbey struggled to hide the gleam in her eyes. “Unless the cold’s too much for our little west-coast CJ to take.”

It took a second for that last jest to sink in before CJ’s grin expanded into a broad smile.

“You love to tease me, don’t you?” 

“I’m just warming up, dear,” Abbey said as she grabbed her coat and caught CJ’s bright eyes.

\- - -

“Alright, alright!” Josh was motioning fervently with his hands that the staff needed to get it together. “Let’s try and have a meeting, just one little meeting, that’s all I’m asking for, guys!”

The impromptu game of basketball that had erupted between Toby, Sam, and CJ ended with the ball ricocheting into a filing cabinet, bringing silence to the lobby.

“Thanks, thank you,” Josh said, his fingers to his forehead.

The other three chatted like he wasn’t there.

“Do you think he’s annoyed?”

“I don’t know, Sam, looks like migraine on the horizon,” Toby said flatly. “Thoughts, CJ?”

“Should we check if he’s got a stick up his-”

“Hey!” Josh nearly yelled. “Leo wanted me to have a meeting and if he comes back and we haven’t had a meeting, guess who’s ass is going to be on the line?”

“Would that be the same ass that has-”

“Sam!” Josh looked like he really wanted to laugh. On the inside.

“Oh, c’mon, Josh, you know it was funny,” CJ said, hoping to win him over.

“Yeah, CJ, I’ll give him that,” He put his hands over his face and sighed. “Okay, everyone grab chairs.”

The other three members of the top staff did so, easily adjusting to their roles as Semi-Serious-Politics-People (or SSPPs, as they had decided to shorten the name on the same slightly tipsy night that they had decided on the title in the first place).

“First off, I’d like everyone to congratulate CJ on surviving her first month here,” Josh was back to his usual self now that he had the security of not being imminently chastised by Leo.

Rising from her chair and bowing, CJ delivered with perfect melodrama: “Thank you all, thanks to the Academy, and of course to all my loyal fans. I truly couldn’t have done it without you.”

The boys waited until she rested in her seat once more before breaking out in peals of laughter. CJ just sat with a satisfied grin on her face like a queen at her court.

Once they had calmed down, Josh spoke once again.

“I don’t have much to report. Of course we all know the Iowa caucuses are coming up, and I’ve been thinking we have to start considering getting the hell outta Dodge, if you get what I mean.”

“Agreed,” said Toby.

Josh looked around to see vague nods.

“Alright, we’ll talk to the Governor about it whenever she comes by,” Josh said, trailing off. “Which is when, Toby?”

Toby nodded to Sam: “I passed off my duties to a willing deputy.”

“Really?” Josh and CJ asked at the same time, both looking at Sam like he was the biggest pushover in American history. Which he might well have been at that moment.

“I’m happy to help out,” Sam shuffled some folders. CJ and Josh shrugged to each other.

“She’s coming in at 8:30 on Thursday, two days from now,” Sam closed his binder.

“Great, and we’ll have the financial disclosure meeting as soon as she gets here,” Josh said. “You have anything, Toby?”

Toby shook his head.

“You, CJ?”

“Well,” She flipped open her folder and adjusted her glasses. It was another damn morning of contact lens failure. “I’m glad we’re getting the personal finance meeting done, there’ve been some questions about that...”

She flipped to another page of notes.

“The typical inquiries about her past, theories as to why she’s not married, the usual,” And then CJ stopped short. “Oh, listen to this.”

“Is it not the usual?” Josh asked.

“Perhaps not,” CJ continued. “It’s been spreading like wildfire on the more conservative news outlets that the reason Ms. Barrington isn’t married is because she’s a lesbian.”

CJ looked at the shocked faces of her compatriots.

“Oh,” Sam simply said.

“So this may be an issue?” Toby queried.

“So this may be an issue,” CJ assured.

Josh leaned forward in his chair. 

“You’ve gotta talk to her about this.”

“Yeah, we need to prepare the Governor,” CJ agreed.

“No, I mean, _you_ need to talk to her about this,” Josh raised his eyes to CJ’s with a tinge of apology.

“Me? Why me?” CJ could feel herself tensing up. She wasn’t uncomfortable because she thought the subject _should_ be awkward, it was just that she didn’t know if the Governor would take to the discussion well. Or so she told herself.

“It’s... in your wheelhouse,” Josh started.

Well, she couldn’t argue with that.

“Plus, how do I put this,” he continued. “It sounds better not coming from a man.”

“Josh, I’m going to refrain from saying how sexist that sounded,” CJ said, wanting desperately to avoid having this conversation with her new boss.

Her coworkers all shrugged at her with sympathetic looks.

“Well,” She said after a second, gathering her papers. “I guess I know what I’ll be doing after the disclosure meeting.” 

CJ was resigned to her fate.

 


	2. Two Women Ignore Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CJ is forced to have a conversation with her new boss that she doesn't necessarily want to, Abbey looks at the reality of her life, and the team prepares for a medley of social engagements.

As the remnants of the informal budget and financial disclosure meeting dispersed, CJ trailed Governor Barrington back to her office. She had been on edge ever since she had been given her assignment, as she had taken to calling it. 

“ _Don’t ask a question you don’t want the answer to,”_ her father had always told her. CJ thought it applied to this situation. Except, as she soon had to stop denying to herself, some part of her desperately wanted to know Abbey’s answer.

But she knew better than to let that piece eat away at her mind. She remembered why the team had narrowed it down to her. She was Press Secretary: it was in “her wheelhouse”. She was a woman: “it sounds better not coming from a man”. And then there was the tacit factor: CJ Cregg wasn’t always perceived as the most “feminine” woman in the world. She had to have some empathy.

“Governor,” CJ slipped into her boss’s office as the rest of her coworkers left for lunch. “I have a question about a possibly sensitive subject.”

“A sensitive subject?” Abbey’s mischievous eyes sparked over her glasses. “Were my personal finances not sensitive enough?”

CJ would have laughed more heartily if not for the subtle nerves in her stomach. “Are they ever?” She managed to smile as both women sunk into their secondhand chairs.“Ms. Barrington--”

“Abbey. If it really is personal, I want you to call me Abbey,” She said, more serious now.

“Abbey. There are some allegations--by the press, by the public--that you may be, well...” Here goes. “A lesbian.” 

CJ chewed the inside of her lip as the seconds on the chipped mint green clock ticked away.

“A lesbian?” Abbey took her glasses off. “CJ, that’s only sensitive if you’re a Republican.”

CJ let herself laugh at that one. “It’s just because you’re a single woman, you know that.”

“I do, I do. I don’t really care, though. I know it’s the election, but I don’t really care if they think I’m a lesbian. I mean, Hell...” And then Abbey looked to the floor.

“What?” CJ was glad see the Governor acting more like herself.

She took a deep sigh. “You’re a single working woman, CJ,” She said and stared straight into CJ’s eyes like that statement was supposed to clear up everything.

“Yes,” CJ stared back in amusement.

“You know what people think, right? I’m betting that you’re quite a bit like me,” CJ watched Abbey sit back in the chair and prop her feet up, comparing her to a mental image of a predatory dragon. “You don’t care what they think.”

“Yeah,” CJ answered simply, hoping somewhere that they were more similar than that.

“So do we have to answer the question?”

That one took CJ by surprise.

“Well, Abbey, to tell you the truth, I think everyone on the campaign was counting on an answer,” CJ said as impersonally as she could muster.

“A straight answer,” Abbey quipped with a sharp look.

“Everyone assumes that,” _I don’t._ she almost added.

“They’re not going to get one,” Abbey was adamant.

“An answer or a _straight_ answer?” CJ asked, and her gut hit the floor as soon as her words hit the sharp November air.

Abbey didn’t respond, staring a hole in the floor again. CJ felt small tendrils of panic creeping in her stomach, but she was too absorbed now in her quest to hold herself back.

“I know the statistics,” CJ’s cutting voice brought Abbey’s head back up again. “One in ten. At least one in twenty. How many people do we have working on the campaign?” She let the question rest in the air. “I know it’s stupid for them to assume that the rumor’s not true. It’s stupid for it even to _be_ a rumor. It doesn’t need to be discredited. It doesn’t.”

The silence passed between them, filled not with tension, but with a soothing understanding, like a warm wool blanket or a cashmere coat. A cloud passed over the cold winter sun. The time-battered clock ticked on.

“I’m not a lesbian,” Abbey was still staring at the concrete. “I like men almost as much as I like women.”

CJ sucked in a breath unknowingly forgone.

“I suppose that means I’m bisexual. I don’t really care if it’s called that, but I know either way the voters aren’t going to take to it.” She looked up at CJ, brown eyes open; open to suggestion, to judgement, to understanding.

“I know it’s hard, Abbey,” CJ said through a filter of emotion she wished wasn’t palpable. “There are some things that shouldn’t matter in an election, but they do. And omitting them from public view doesn’t make you any less yourself.” 

That seemed to comfort Abbey. CJ continued:

“You don’t have to tell them. You don’t have to respond at all if you don’t want to. You can be above this and come off as the one who took the high road. But I want you to know, Abbey,” CJ made sure she was looking at her then. “If you want to release it, I’m going to do every damn thing I can to help.”

The two women studied each other’s eyes for a few moments before Abbey could let out a quiet “thank you” as they heard Josh and the rest of the wolf pack begin to trample into the HQ, snow falling from boots, shaken from hats and locks of hair and beard alike.

“I won’t hold it against you if you don’t,” CJ smiled with honest eyes as she rose from her seat, exiting once Abbey gave her a perceptive nod.

Abbey was left alone in her office.

“And I don’t hold it against you,” she said to herself, a knowing glint in her eyes and a secret locked on her lips.

\- - -

Abbey wished she had been so perceptive as to discern CJ’s sexuality on her own, but in truth it was Toby that had told her.

Pressing speaker on the phone in her home’s office, Abbey waited while the dial tone rung out. She stared at her feet while she shuffled papers in her hands.

“Yes, Abbey,” A familiar nasally and caustic tone sprung from the phone.

“Toby!” Abbey yelled, as she often did during calls, as if she were having a conversation in a busy metro station. It was a habit all the campaign workers had adapted to. “I’m looking at these events and I’m thinking, well... there are a hell of a lot of them.”

“Yes there are,” Toby replied.

“And you don’t have any opinion?” The vague thought that she was too sober for this trailed through Abbey’s head.

“Well, I figure since you’re about as recognizable as a third party candidate, It might be a good idea to get you out there,” Toby answered.

Abbey sighed and sunk into her chair. 

“I suppose so, but you know I hate pointless events.”

“Yeah. CJ’s trying to get you to speak at some women’s thing next week instead of whatever we had lined up.”

“ _Some women’s thing_?” Abbey’s voice was raised for an entirely different reason. “Toby, I know you’re not a misogynist, so stop talking like one!”

“I’m sorry, Abbey,” He sighed. 

“I bet you are!”

They held their silence while Abbey cooled off. From his conversational resignation she could picture the bags under his eyes and she was almost sorry about them until she realized she paid him for it.

“What are the odds that CJ’s gonna get that set up?”

“CJ’s a crafty woman, Abbey. She has her wiles.” 

“She certainly does,” Abbey smiled to herself and trailed off. “She certainly does.” 

Toby made an amused “hmmpf” sound on the other end.

“What?” The Governor asked in a playfully disguised tone.

“Just reminds me of something,” Toby answered.

“Of what?” Abbey’s curiosity was piqued.

“Oh, just... bygone times,” He could be so melodramatic.

“That’s a little vague,” Abbey badgered him.

“I knew CJ when she was at Berkeley and what you said reminded me of talking with some of her, uh,” Toby hit a wall. 

“Her what?” Abbey couldn’t let herself believe it was what she was hoping. No, not hoping. Thinking. She was definitely thinking, not hoping. Nope. No hoping here.

“Her friends.”

“Her _friends_?”

The line was silent while Abbey sat expectantly.

“Toby!” She yelled.

“Abbey!” He yelled back even louder.

“Don’t be a doofus!” It was a shouting match now. Abbey was glad she lived alone.

“Her girlfriends!” 

Abbey didn’t have time to process fully that she was right.

“What kind of girlfriends are we talking about here?” She asked in equal volume.

“ _Sexual_ ones!” Toby nearly screamed.

“Oh,” Abbey released the sound meekly.

The two were quiet for a few moments.

“Don’t tell that to her, okay?” Toby said, back to his low and avoidant tone.

“I don’t think I need to inform her of her own sexuality, Toby,” Abbey quipped sarcastically while the cogs in her mind regained normal function.

“You know what I mean, Governor,” He said. “Just don’t bring it up to her. Don’t do anything that would show you know.”

“Yes, I do know what you mean, Toby,” Abbey said, but she thought inside that she _most definitely wanted to do something that showed she knew_.

“Alright, so CJ or I will let you know when she gets that figured out,” Toby was back to business, and Abbey could tell he was much more comfortable that way.

“Thank you,” Abbey drove her words on autopilot.

“In the meantime you’ll just have to steel yourself for some ridiculous social gatherings.”

“Thanks, Toby. Goodnight,” Her finger lingered over the phone’s buttons.

“Goodnight, Abbey,” In a few seconds his words were accompanied by the soft click of a phone being hung up. Abbey sighed, walking to her kitchen to get a beer.

\- - -

On any normal workday, it was not unusual for Abbey Barrington to wear dresses. They would be simple, tasteful, and plainly attractive. But for formal events, she wore _gowns_.

The distinction between the two having been unclear to CJ until after graduate school, she was regularly impressed by the finery worn by well-dressed women at media galas and award dinners. And once she had earned her way in the industry, CJ had taken to buying some rather expensive garments herself.

She had seen pictures of Abbey in gowns before--they were plastered all over magazines and newspapers. She had noticed the Governor’s penchant for dark colors and her skin’s ability to make glistening fabric look the farthest thing from tacky. CJ had spent more time glancing her eyes over the pictures than she would like to admit, taking in Abbey’s elegant makeup, her clinched hourglass waist, and the way the gown would envelop her buxom form.

But CJ had yet to see any of these things in person; and frankly, she thought to herself, she may not be entirely prepared. 

Stepping out of the steaming shower one morning, the sky outside her motel window still shrouded with early blue mist, she was struck with that unsettling thought. It was easy to ignore it in the daylight hours, when the campaign dominated her thoughts and quieted all her other concerns. 

She had always been glad for the way that work made her feel. It was all-encompassing, assuring. Nothing else mattered in the world as long as the job got done, and CJ could get her kicks while doing it. She’d been that way even back in Dayton; it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate a good time, as some of her former peers seemed to think, it was that she took considerable pride in her own competence. 

Anyway, she thought to herself as she blow-dried her hair, she wasn’t some kind of scrooge. She was lively--entertaining, even! She couldn’t be accused of being a stick in the mud.

It was trains of thought like this that CJ used to navigate far away from things she didn’t want to dwell on.

\- - -

“Yes, the Single Mother’s Fund? This is C.J. Cregg from the Barrington for America campaign.”

She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder, preparing a notepad and pen to write with.

“Can I speak to Lori Paige? We had a call a few days ago. Yes, I’ll hold,” CJ rolled her eyes to herself while she waited for the secretary to attain this Lori Paige’s whereabouts.

The line clicked to life.

“Yes, hello again, Lori. I’d like to talk to you about the possibility of Governor Barrington speaking at one of your dinners. You brought this to us a few weeks ago before your other speaker confirmed, yes?”

Fingers playing absentmindedly with the phone cord, CJ took a sip of coffee as she sunk back into her chair.

“I understand your other speaker canceled due to a family emergency. I want to express my condolences and sympathy on behalf of the campaign.”

More buzzing on the line. CJ glanced at the clock. She could really use some lunch right about now.

“Oh, no, it’s _you_ who’s doing the fabulous work. I’m really a big fan. The Governor is, too, in fact.”

She sure knew how to chat someone up, CJ thought. It was years of pointless Hollywood parties that she had to thank for that.

“Well, I’m not here to chew your ear off, but I wanted to tell you that Governor Barrington still has the night of the 18th off,” CJ bit her lip, awaiting the response.

“Oh really? That would be great. So we’re all set? You’ll fax the details over?”

CJ was out of her seat and silently air-punching in a matter of seconds.

“Alright, well, it’s nice talking to you again, Lori. I hope I see you at the dinner. Yeah. Good. Goodbye.”

CJ hung up the phone with triumph and shot both fists into the air. It was time for a celebratory chicken salad sandwich.

\- - -

Abbey had sat in her broad study, slouched in a cloth and wood chair that was probably too old and too fancy to be slouching in. On the chestnut side desk three empty brown bottles congregated. Another rested in Abbey’s left hand.

She let out a hearty laugh and brought the bottle to her lips, smearing lipstick on the edge. That one beer she supposed she would get from the fridge had greatly escalated. Thank goodness she had a free day tomorrow; or at least as free as things got around here.

Between her job and the campaign, there had been precious little time for leisure, and Abbey was content to spend most of that still thinking about work. She had been lonesome before the campaign, she realized with a sudden sort of drunken clarity, as the walls looked too familiar and had been marked by her eyes one too many a night. But now she had her staff that Leo had somehow rounded up. They were hooligans--but brilliant, _oh-so wonderful_ hooligans. How with any trick of the universe could they have ever found their way to her?

Abbey chuckled. She couldn’t deceive herself; she was never very good at it. Loneliness still marked her life. It wandered the halls and knocked vases off shelves and forgot to put its books away; and Abbey didn’t always notice it, she hardly did, but it was there and it was plain to few.

As the only unmarried State Governor, she sometimes wondered how all the other Governor’s mansions felt. Were they full of sound, with snores seeping into the plaster at night? Did warm smells of cinnamon drift from the kitchen as other governor’s woke in the morning?  And do any of the rest of them use their study to get drunk alone on a Friday night?

Abbey didn’t know the answer, so she ignored the question.

\- - -

CJ opened the door to the lobby of the HQ, sandwich in hand.

“Hey, CJ,” Leo called from the front table. “You talk to that Single Mother’s Fund coordinator?”

“Why, in fact, I did,” Slipping off her coat, CJ smiled coyly, taking a ferocious bite into her meal.

“They said yes?” Josh was in the lobby now, too.

“They said yes!” CJ’s cheer was muffled by her chicken salad sandwich.

“Alright!” Josh came forward with his arms up in a celebratory V-shape, collecting CJ and Leo with each as he wrapped them into what would best be described as a half-assed business squeeze.

“Josh, let me go,” Leo said in a monotone, although he didn’t mind nearly as much as he let on.

“Okay,” Josh followed orders, slightly embarrassed, while CJ just snorted with amusement. Men are weird as hell. 

All three took a second to adjust their clothing. 

“Alright, CJ, you’re ready for Thursday, right?” Leo shuffled papers on the front table.

“Ready Freddy, there’s not too much to prepare for a hospital conference,” CJ cursed the fact that this was an actual event that her candidate actually had to go to.

“Well, you’ll need a dress,” Josh put in a shrugged.

“Yes, Josh, thank you for reminding me to clothe myself,” CJ rolled her eyes.

“I know you think this is below us, but try not to make it obvious when you’re actually there,” Leo said, eying both of them.

“Yes, Leo,” they both answered.

“You said it yourself, CJ, we need to make sure that the public knows the Governor has a handle on healthcare from early on. She served on hospital boards, for god’s sake!”

“Yes, and they’ll be press there, and it’ll get into the state papers and maybe some national news’ll pick it up for a split second if the cycle’s been slow. But,” she paused for ironic effect. “At least we have the Single Mother’s Fund,” CJ’s face was graced with a hopeful half-smirk that was more like a twitch to get lettuce from the front of her teeth.

“Yeah,” Leo nodded. “At least we’ve got the Single Mother’s Fund.”


	3. The Hotel Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having her life and her appearance picked apart by the media isn't easy for Abbey. In the minutes before a formal event, she could use some cheering up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I saw that I hadn't updated this fic in a year, and decided to post the section of the next chapter that I had already written way back when. Who knows, I may find time to continue this eventually!

“Es non obesa!” 

“Oh, will you shut it with your Latin?”

Leo and his husband Jed were gathered in the hotel hallway in full event getup, just outside Governor Barrington’s room. Around them swarmed campaign interns, hotel staff, and other guests, completely oblivious to the two men’s discussion. Pushing through the throng, CJ hurried towards the conversation.

“Excuse me, Leo, what’s going on?” CJ asked.

“The Governor thinks she’s fat!” Leo half-yelled as he walked away from the scene with a huff.

“ _Don’t tell them that!_ ” Came a call from inside the room.

CJ looked at Jed.

“I tried to placate her with Latin. Everyone knows it’s the language of beauty,” Jed began to lecture.

“I don’t need you to explain yourself,” CJ moved towards the door. “Go calm down Leo or he’ll be a real pain later.”

“Oh, you don’t think I know that?” He said as he followed his husband’s trail.

Alone next to the door, CJ knocked. They had a few minutes to spare, but CJ didn’t want to risk being late. 

“Abbey? It’s CJ,” she called.

“You can come in,” Governor Barrington allowed in a more defeated voice than usual.

CJ turned the handle and pushed the door into the room, taking in the sight of a slumping Abbey on the end of the bed, an untied aubergine gown resting on her lap as if it were some discarded terrycloth towel. 

“Hey,” the older woman looked up at her visitor.

“Hey,” CJ stepped into the room.

They spent a few moments staring at each other with seemingly blank expressions.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” CJ finally asked with a short smile.

Her boss just rose and sighed, walking towards the wide bathroom mirror, letting the unfastened dress glide off her lap, leaving only a slip. CJ sucked in her breath and hoped to anything that she didn’t gasp or gape or do any of the improper things she knew she was liable to do in such a situation.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if Abbey weren’t such an attractive woman, if her skin wasn’t so smooth looking and her body not so curved. After all, the slip covered only slightly less of her body than CJ had already seen. It was the pure psychology of the moment. A dimmed hotel room, a beautifully powerful woman in need of comfort. As much as she wanted to let her mind wander in less than appropriate directions, CJ restrained herself, refocusing on reality.

“I’m too fat to be wearing this dress,” Abbey said to the mirror.

“No, you’re not,” CJ answered without thinking.

“You know, it’s hard to exercise on a campaign schedule,” Abbey trailed off, pouting in the mirror.

“Even if that was making a difference--and it isn’t--you’d still be incredibly healthy and incredibly...” Incredibly what? Alluring? Seductive? Captivating? “Trim.”

Abbey’s eyes sank below her reflection and into the far corner of the mirror where she could just barely see CJ outfitted in a smart navy dress. Her question came tumbling into the softness of the room.

“Did you see what they wrote about me in that tabloid?”

“Probably,” CJ said. “There are a lot of tabloids.”

“All of them want to talk about my dress, not my speech. My looks, not my thoughts. Don’t you just get sick of it?”

“Of course I do,” CJ stepped forward towards her companion. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she should. “Do you know how many questions I got today about what you’re wearing? Far too many in comparison to how many were about real, substantive issues. I stood in my hotel room last night trying to memorize the brand of your shoes. So yes, I do get sick of it,” CJ ended matter-of-factly.

“They don’t have headlines about Hoynes’s tie,” Abbey’s mood seemed only mildly shifted towards the better.

“And they don’t have whole articles about whether or not a man is fit to be President,” CJ stepped just the slightest bit closer to Abbey, who turned around to face her. Their breath mingled and CJ thought she could smell mint mouthwash and Abbey’s perfume. 

“CJ, do you think I can do it?” Abbey’s eyes were dark and round like big saucers of coffee and CJ couldn’t stop herself from being transfixed.

“I don’t have any doubts about what you can do, Abbey,” CJ smiled as her companion drew her close and wrapped her arms around the taller woman’s lean waist. 

CJ hugged Abbey with all the care and compassion she could muster, feeling her dark hair brush against her exposed neck. It gave each of them a sense of peace that had been hard to come by since the campaign started. Maybe even before that.

After the warm silence and cadence of joint breath, the two women parted.

“So,” CJ continued in a low, caring voice, seeing that Abbey’s visage had lightened. “You should show the tabloids that they could write more articles than you could shake a stick at, and you still wouldn’t care less.”

The two women smiled at each other in an intimate moment. 

“I think I might just take your advice,” Abbey said as she strode back into the main area of the hotel room. “After all, It’s harder for us out here, and I have to trust somebody.”

CJ smiled to herself as she watched the Governor step into her aubergine gown.

“You’re going to look beautiful in that dress, Abbey,” CJ said before she could stop herself.

“Help zip me up, Claudia Jean,” Abbey ordered, but not without a grin.

CJ couldn’t remember when she had started calling her that.

 


	4. Brunettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The campaign staff is tired of waiting restlessly in New Hampshire. Abbey is tired of waiting restlessly for CJ to confirm what she already knows.

“Leo, I need to talk to you about something,” Abbey plopped down in the chair opposite him. Her old friend lifted his gaze at the intrusion.

“Well, then. By all means.”

“When did you become attracted to Jed?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know it’s personal, but I needed a personal chat.”

“Really, Abbey?” He tossed his glasses on his desk.

“Really, Leo.”

Leo sighed and rolled his head as if he was looking for an escape route. There were none to be found.

“You don’t _become_ attracted to a man like Jed, you just _are_.”

“Lust at first sight?”

“It sounds lewd when you say it,” Leo jabbed as Abbey was lost in her own thoughts.

“But I guess you knew he was gay from the get go.” 

“Yes, Abbey. You introduced us.” Leo’s level of ‘done with this conversation’ rose from a three to a seven. “Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine, Leo, I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“See, you always do this. You try to be sneaky with me when you ask me for advice and it always just turns into a waste of time.”

“Ah, yes, I seem to have left my military-trained precision at home.”

“Don’t quit your day job. Now what’s wrong?”

“I’m trying to figure out if I’m attracted to a woman just because I know she likes women.” 

Leo sighed. He thought he knew what this was about. But he really hoped he didn’t. 

“My immediate response to that, Abbey, is no. You have to have a shallower reason to be attracted to someone than that.”

“Like not getting laid in months?”

“That’ll do it.”

\- - - 

The meeting room in campaign headquarters was filled with frustration.

“I swear, I am done with these little second-rate photo ops!” Josh Lyman shouted at the table.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Toby monotoned.

“We have the women’s thing,” Sam suggested.

“Single Mothers’ Fund,” everyone else mumbled back to him.

“Sure, but that’s just a week away,” Josh said.

“Iowa and New Hampshire are in February. We have two months to make our candidate appealing. Currently, most of America doesn’t know we have a candidate,” Toby opined in his most grouchy tone.

“I really think you’re right, Josh,” CJ mused. “Let’s get ourselves to Iowa.”

“Alright!” Josh stood up from his chair. “Someone agrees with me.”

“Agrees with you about what?” Leo stepped out of his office to join the conversation.

“We want to go to Iowa,” Josh said.

“When?” Leo asked.

“As soon as we can.”

\- - - 

It was CJ and Abbey’s last night in that seedy Manchester bar. Abbey liked the place because the owner was an old friend who kept the crowds away and never seemed to care to talk politics. CJ liked it for the simple reason that they had beer.

On a table to the side, they watched the crowds ebb and flow through the drowsy haze in their eyes. 

“Look at that one walking in,” Abbey pointed behind CJ’s shoulder. 

“Who?” CJ had to squint to see in this dark light.

“Purple shirt.”

“What about him?”

“Pretty cute.”

“Go on over, then.”

“Do you think he’s cute?”

Cj took a moment. “Not my type.”

“Hmmph.”

They finished their drinks a heartbeat later.

“What about _that_ one,” Abbey pointed to a guy on their left.

“Blue pants?”

“Blue pants.”

“He’s okay. I mean, I’m not attracted to him, but I don't mind his… face,” CJ mused.

“Okay,” Abbey was frustrated out of her mind. And drunker than she appeared. It was time to do something she thought was sneaky at the time, but any sober person would be able to see through.

“How about,” Abbey scanned the room, then pinpointed a beanpole blonde in the corner. “That one!”

CJ turned. The turned back to Abbey. Then turned back again. Then turned to Abbey again. It was all as if she was trying to watch two different tv screens at the same time.

The blonde was a woman. Very feminine. No way Abbey was drunk enough to point her out by mistake.

“Abbey,” CJ laid out her words very calmly and carefully. “What are you trying to get me to do?”

“Do you think she’s cute?” Abbey just smiled, forgetting for a moment that whatever professional relationship they still had was in jeopardy with every syllable she spoke.

“I… I don’t know how to answer that,” CJ got up, grabbed her bag. “I’m going to go call us a cab, be right back.

“Wait a second, Claudia Jean!” 

CJ stopped.

“Is she your type?”

CJ sighed. “More my type than the others.”

Abbey was so excited she couldn’t formulate words for the next few moments. CJ took the change to walk away, confessing in a low voice before she left:

“While gentlemen prefer blondes, I prefer brunettes.”


	5. Niche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iowa is a breath of very very chilly air. Abbey regrets her constant bluntness, while CJ pretends that everything is absolutely 100% normal.

The Single Mother’s Fund Benefit Luncheon was being held, conveniently for the campaign, in D.C. 

“We get a solid stance on childcare, foodstamps, and women’s issues, with the added bonus of the Governor looking at home with all the other D.C. politicians and activists,” CJ had put it to the rest of the senior staffers. The press would already be in the city en masse, so there was little worry about turnout.

CJ joked with the reporters lined up at the back of the room, smiling, being witty. The press was on her side, or at least as far on her side as they could be. CJ was in her element, talking about the candidate Governor Barrington. She could almost forget that there was any woman behind that persona.

While Abbey stood near the podium, carousing with other featured speakers, CJ could hardly recall the woman she spent the evening with last week in a haze of alcohol. For all Abbey’s wits and charm, she had little social etiquette besides common human decency. She could be a blunt instrument, whether it came to a conversation or public policy.

CJ clucked to herself. There would be no more anonymous trips to a bar for Abbey. Tomorrow, they’d be in Iowa, and the divide between private and public life would have to become irreparably starker.

As she watched the sparkling women parade on the stage to receive awards, share stories, and make speeches, CJ tried to settle the foreboding feeling in her chest. Being the Barrington for America campaign’s Press Secretary was her job, an amazing job, an amazing step in her career. And that’s where her involvement with Abbey Barrington would end.

\- - -

CJ thought this might be another circle of hell.

Riding in a jet to Des Moines, jammed between a stoic Toby and a snoring Josh, she read the early editions of every paper she could pick up before their flight. She huffed.

“What?” Toby grumbled.

“Some people are taking her speech at the benefit luncheon as ‘further proof she is disingenuous in her catering to women, as Abbey Barrington has never been a mother herself’,” CJ stared back at Toby.

“Have you read the Washington Post?” he asked, monotone.

“No, I haven’t Toby. I’m reading this,” CJ said as if it was the most obvious thing on earth.

He reached and pulled The Washington Post from the stack of papers on CJ’s lap, plopping it on top. 

“Read it,” he insisted as he rolled over onto his other side. “Then get some sleep. We have a long day.”

CJ sighed and looked into the middle distance before flipping open the paper.

\- - -

Abbey waited for her flight (paranoid as Toby was, he had insisted that the whole campaign not go on the same plane) at Dulles, sitting idly and reading a book that she couldn’t bear actually paying attention to. Leo sat a few seats down, with their luggage between them.

What the hell had she done? Abbey had worked through all the moves to know if CJ could possibly be interested in her, and now that she knew it was a possibility, she didn’t have a plan. That’s just great, she thought. 

In a few minutes, she and Leo were called to board the plane. Abbey, stuck in her own head, barreled through the corridor, onto the plane, and beside her seat. She could hear Leo wheezing behind her. 

“What’s the rush, Abbey? They’re not gonna take of without you,” He grumbled as a flight attendant helped stow his bag above their row.

Abbey waved off the assistance for her own bag. “You know, just ready to get to Iowa already. 

“Excited for the debate?” Leo asked, getting comfy in his window seat.

Abbey wrestled with her luggage, accidentally stepping on a passerby’s foot, nearly hitting another on the head, and generally making a racket. “What was that, Leo?” She finally got get bag secured and sat down with a sigh, as if nothing had happened.

“You’re like a goddamn bull in a china shop sometimes, you know that?” Leo quipped fondly.

“Tell me about it.”

\- - -

“What’s the story, Claudia Jean?” Abbey asked as car doors slammed and the campaign staff walked into the hotel they would all be staying in.

“ _The Chicago Tribune_ asks ‘how can Abbey Barrington possibly support mothers when she supports abortion?’” CJ started.

“Well, some people weren’t going to like me anyway,” Abbey answered casually. “Who’s next?”

“Better news for you, courtesy of _The Washington Post_ ,” CJ smirked to herself. “They interviewed a few single mothers who were at the luncheon. Listen to this quote from one: ‘I’ve spent years campaigning for public pre-k, workplace equality, all that, and nobody’s heard me. President Lassiter certainly hasn’t heard me. I used to say I’d be happy with any Democrat, but I don’t think Hoynes or Wiley hear me either. Barrington’s the only one who really wants to make headway.”

“That is good news,” Abbey beamed excitedly. “That’s very good news. If I could reach your face, I’d kiss you, Claudia Jean.”

_Wow. She could not have just said that, could she?_

Abbey performs a mental replay of the scene.

_Yep. She totally said that. And like a true politician, she is going to act like she meant to._

CJ, probably due to pure and utter shock, had walked farther ahead of Abbey. Or maybe it was due to her absurdly long legs. _God, how long are her goddamn legs?_ Abbey wondered. She really needed to get a hold of herself. But Abbey was a woman enamored, and she hadn’t proven able to control herself when it came to CJ.

CJ was already at the check-in desk with Josh, Toby, and Sam, nearly recovered from Abbey’s comment. She really did enjoy the little bit of flirtation here and there. It was certainly better than working with the humorless money machines she had endured at Triton Day. It was her normal routine; to be flirted with, to smirk, to walk away. It was easy, it was light, and it required near-zero commitment.

“Barrington Campaign,” Toby mumbled to the hotel worker, who promptly disappeared behind some wood paneling.

Josh reached his arms out widely in a stretch and yawned.

“Excited for a nap?” Toby asked.

“You betcha,” Josh answered.

“I’m excited to spend the next two hours watching all the news channels this place offers,” CJ remarked snidely while grabbing a copy of a local paper.

\- - -

The campaign bus reminded CJ of being on her high school basketball team. In one corner, Sam and Toby would be mumbling, to each other or to themselves, no one else could tell. In the back, Josh was always pacing, one hand running through his hair. Leo and Abbey sat across from each other at a table reading whatever condensed brief that day required, and trading files once they both were finished with the one in front of them. CJ sat alone, legs crossed, reading newspapers, magazines, or sometimes talking on the phone. 

Occasionally there would be an outburst, usually from Josh or Toby or maybe even Sam, and like a coach, Leo would get up and try to straighten them out with a glare and some anecdote. It always worked, but somehow Abbey had a harder time concentrating on her reading without Leo across from her. CJ and Josh had been betting that they have small competition going about who can read faster.

This time, the outburst was Toby.

“Oh, you wanna water it down even more?” He asked Sam incredulously.

“Well it wouldn’t hurt to show an ability to compromise, Toby,” Sam stood up pointedly.

“She has an identity now. She’s a woman, she did the Single Mother’s thing. We’re riding on a wave of liberal values and women’s issues, we can’t deny it now!”

Abbey threw a glance at Leo, who stood up from his seat.

“Taking out the Planned Parenthood section isn’t denying it—“

“Yes it is, of course it is! We’re taking out something that actually reflects the Governor’s values—“

“Ahem!” Leo was right beside the famed Magnificent Dueling Speechwriters. “The Governor is three rows away from you. Why don’t you try to keep it down. Just a little.” 

With a nod, Leo trodded back to his seat. Sam and Toby were left whispering small sorries to each other without making eye contact.

“And don’t take out the Planned Parenthood section, I like that part,” Abbey said.

“With all due respect, ma’am—“

“Sam. I want the Planned parenthood section,” Abbey stared him down. “It’s not the general election. And stop calling me ma’am.”

“She has a point,” Everyone turned to see a strained-looking Josh walking up the aisle. “To get traction in the primaries she needs a niche.”

“A what?” Sam asked.

“A niche,” CJ offered helpfully.

“Right,” Sam turned back to his drafts. “We’ll leave it in.”

Abbey rolled her eyes at CJ, who gave a sympathetic giggle.

It was another half hour until they got to a small farm where the rally would be held. CJ, with all her papers and magazines, was the last to leave. Abbey waited for her by the door. 

“They’re idiots.” Abbey joked. “But I guess we’ll have to stick with them.”

CJ laughed. She didn’t know what to say. Sometimes she felt so dumb when she didn’t have a witty response for Abbey, but Abbey didn’t seem to take notice.

“And CJ?” Abbey said softly.

CJ refocused on Abbey’s face.

“Thank you. For the Single Mother’s Fund. Toby’s right, I do have an identity. And I think the press is finally seeing it,” Abbey smiled so sweetly and honestly that CJ wondered whether the country air was getting to her.

“You’re welcome.” CJ smiled back simply, and followed the Governor into the small crowd waiting outside the bus.

\- - -

It was cold and blustery on the flat cornfields of Iowa. CJ shivered in her shoes, sans socks or stockings. The five New Englanders beside her could care less about the temperature. 

Up on the stand, the local Representative was giving an impassioned speech about subsidies coexisting with personal responsibility and somehow wove in a vague line about growing from open-mindedness. CJ noted that oddity, glancing at Toby, who noted it as well.

This was Abbey’s first rally in Iowa. It was critical, they all knew, for Abbey to continue speaking on her liberal philosophies, while striking a balance between the cold-hearted harpy the conservative outlets made her to be and the overly sympathetic, girlish woman that CJ knew they could turn her into in the next news cycle.

In a matter of minutes, Abbey was behind the podium, cheeks flushed, a maroon scarf pushed to her chin, and a broad toothy smile. The audience, small but enthusiastic, cheered and clapped at exactly the moments Toby and Sam had predicted.

“Now, I know the holidays may be on many of your minds. Next week, if you celebrate Christmas, you’ll be surrounded by family and friends, perhaps resting by a fire, taking a well-earned break from your busy lives,” Abbey took on a soft tone. “But I want to bring attention to the less talked-about reality of the holidays for many Iowans, and many Americans.”

“She’s got them in the palm of her hand,” Leo whispered.

“From 1995-1997, the average rate of poverty in Iowa was 10.5%. In the country, it was 13.6. But these percentages aren’t just numbers. They’re people. They’re your neighbors, your coworkers, your friends. If they were hungry Christmas day, you would invite them in, give them anything they wanted. The American spirit is one of generosity. That’s why, as Governor of New Hampshire, I gave tax incentives to organizations, like food banks, that supply food to those in need. Poverty is not something that happens overseas, it happens here, it happens right under our noses. And, as I stand in the breadbasket of America, I want to invite our neighbors, our friends, and our family to sit at America’s table.”

As the crowd roared, Abbey’s top staffers let out breaths they didn’t know they were holding. 

\- - -

“If we keep this up, maybe I’ll be able to get some sleep while I’m back home,” Sam remarked, back in the bus.

Relaxed after the success of the speech, they had arranged themselves into something resembling a circle.

“Don’t worry, Sam, Toby and I will hold down the fort,” Josh tried to get Toby to smirk back at him, but it didn’t work, of course.

“Good. Jed doesn’t want me talking about work over Christmas dinner ever again.” Leo said.

“Still hasn’t gotten over the store-bought gravy thing?” Abbey asked.

“It’ll take years,” Leo laughed. “When does your flight back to New Hampshire leave?”

“Oh, just five-thirty in the morning,” Abbey looked at her watch. “Which means I’ll have to be up in eight hours. Could be worse.”

Just then, Josh’s phone rang. he excused himself to the back of the bus, beckoning Leo over.

“I’m leaving the 21st,” Sam interjected awkwardly.

“Same as me,” CJ smiled.

Sam got up and joined Toby, who was back working on some other draft of a speech. CJ went over what Toby had just said—or not said—in their conversation. She could have sworn that Toby always spent Christmas at home with Andy. She made a mental note to ask him about… whatever she could ask him without sounding like the nosiest person on earth.

“Where’s home for you?” Abbey asked CJ suddenly.

“What?”

“I said: where’s home for you?” Abbey smiled just a little bit.

CJ looked at her for another second, not responding.

“Claudia Jean, where are you spending Christmas?”

“Oh! Dayton. Ohio. My father and his wife. Hopefully my brothers will have a chance to stop by,” CJ didn’t know why it took her so long to answer the question.

“Sounds nice. I’m hoping to see my nieces. They’re great girls. The oldest one has kids already. I can hardly believe it.”

“I know how it is. My niece is in middle school now. I get to answer questions for her social studies homework over the phone.”

“That’s cute, CJ.” Abbey let the phrase slide right out from between her lips. It could have been nothing, or it could have been something, CJ wagered.

“Thanks,” is all she can bring herself to say.

Just then, Sam speaks up.

“We have another draft of the speech.”

“Are you and Toby in agreement this time?” Abbey asked with a smirk.

Sam seemed reticent to answer. “We may need you to settle a few disputes.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Abbey huffed, more amused than anything, standing up to referee whatever conflict was between her speechwriters. “It’s probably just a comma,” Abbey murmured as she walked away.

CJ sat alone in her chair, thinking about the word _cute_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of campaign plot stuff... I needed to be somewhat convincing that actual governing and campaigning may be going on.  
> Just a note on how ridiculous I am: I spent twenty minutes trying to find those statistics in Abbey's speech and so most of them are real. Take me back to 1997 and make me a politician.


	6. Family and Phone Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the campaign for a few days, CJ and Abbey realized just how attached they've become.

“You’re still in Iowa!?” CJ exclaimed into her phone. She was sitting on the front steps of her father’s house in Dayton, sweater wrapped around her shoulders and worry lines between her eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“But, Toby. What about Andy?”

“She suggested we take a break.”

“Oh, Toby. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s my fault, as usual.”

“Don’t say that.”

Toby was silent on the other side of the line.

“You want to come spend Christmas in Dayton with me? We could pretend that we’re dating.”

“Just for old times sake?”

“Hey, it got my family off my back when I was dating that Microbiologist.”

“They still don’t have a clue?”

“No. They just say I’m a ‘career woman’. Can you believe it, they actually say that? ‘Career woman’, what is this, the 50s?”

“In many ways it is, CJ.”

“You’re being glum.”

“I know.”

“You sure you don’t want to fly out here? Drive?”

“You really want a glum, Jewish, married man at your family Christmas?”

“If you want to be there.”

“Thank you, CJ. I’ll stay here,” Toby sighed into the line.

“Call me if you need anything,” CJ said back, and hung up the phone, her head landing in her hands with a huff.

——

“So, how’s the campaign going, Aunt Abbey?” Elizabeth Barrington asked accross the dinner table.

“Oh, good. Tiring, but what campaign isn’t?” She laughed.

“We’re following the primaries in my Government class,” Zoey spoke up. “My teacher was just talking about how you got so many new people working for you, and how it could help you.”

“Sounds like a good teacher,” She said as a chuckle rose from the table. “You know we got Josh Lyman. An old friend of his, Seaborn, we have him, too. And CJ Cregg, my Spokesperson. We’re really picking up thanks to them.”

“You think you’ll get Hew Hampshire?” Ellie asked.

“Don’t be silly. I could win it in my sleep.” Abbey chuckled. “Seems I might have a real shot. Our numbers just keep getting better.”

“Yeah, but you know you’re not gonna win,” Elizabeth’s husband blurted, shoving a forkful of ham in his mouth.

The table went quiet.

“Doug, honey,” Elizabeth started, controlling herself. before she could get another word out, Abbey interrupted.

“No, Lizzie, don’t stop him. I want to know why he said that,” She stared at Doug, impassive, testing out just how icy she could be with him.

I’ll go check on the kids,” Ellie whispered, putting her napkin on her chair and leaving for the kids table in the other room.

Abbey stared Doug down as he jostled in his seat.

“Well?” She asked, icy as could be. 

“Well, what?”

“Why won’t I win, Doug?” Somehow, his name on her lips sounded like an insult.

“Ms. Barrington—“

“Governor Barrington.”

“I’m sorry. Governor Barrington,” He cleared his throat. “Hoynes is what, 40 points ahead of Wiley? Even farther ahead of you. It’s great that you’re doing this. But you know you’re not the right candidate.”

There was something in the smug way he leaned back into his chair after that remark that made Abbey’s blood boil over. She stood, throwing her napkin down as the antique chair screeched on the hardwood floor. 

“Not the right candidate, Doug? I’ve never lost an election in my life. A decade in the House, two terms as _your_ Governor. What makes me the wrong candidate, Doug?” Abbey stared at him imperviously. 

Doug Westin couldn’t even meet her eyes. He coughed into his napkin: “I’m sorry.”

——

It was Christmas Day, and here CJ was on her father’s porch, staring at her telephone.

She has Abbey’s number. Work, cell, home, and any other phone that she would ever be likely to use. But something just seems so wrong about dialing it.

Sure, they’re friends. CJ knows that. But for all the “call me Abbey”s and “dont call me ma’am”s, Abigail Barrington was still the Governor of New Hampshire, a Democratic candidate for President of the United States, and CJ’s boss.

But why would Abbey act the way she does towards CJ, if she didn’t want to be… closer? The little comments, the glances, and that glaring elephant in the room: the night in the Manchester bar where CJ may have sold both her career and her dignity to a drunk woman with her heart just a little too bared—it all confirms CJ’s hypothesis.

——

Abbey had smoothed down the little dinner table fight with a simple “now, let’s enjoy the rest of our meal.” But Doug had excused himself to go to the store for a few hours respite from the Barrington clan, which he knows can be ferocious. But the Barringtons were not ferocious for the rest of Christmas Day. Instead they laid on the couch watching terrible reruns of soaps.

“So what’s this one’s problem?” Abbey asked, champagne in hand and heels on the coffee table. 

“She’s in love with that guy,” Zoey pointed to a model-like blonde. “For like, years!”

“What’s the issue?”

“She’s his boss! She can’t ask him out.”

Abbey stopped for a second. “How come you know so much about this show? It’s pretty crappy.”

“A friend of mine likes it.”

“Okay, I’ll let it slide. But—“

“Shh! Something’s happening!” Ellie suddenly chimed in.

The three Barringtons watched as the blonde man walked into the woman’s office and declared his love for her. They kissed for an inordinate amount of time before the blonde vowed to quit his job so that they could be together.

Abbey sat with a frown on her face. “I’m going outside for a bit, girls,” She got up, champagne in hand, and walked out.

——

_What a mess_. 

Then CJ's phone rang. Abigail Barrington. Without thinking, she hit the talk button.

_That was dumb._

“Merry Christmas,” came Abbey’s cadence through the phone speaker.

“Merry Christmas,” CJ returned, huddling closer in on herself in the cold. 

“First ring. Must not be a lot going on there at the Creggs' house,” Abbey laughed. “What are you up to?”

“You know, just spending some quality time with my dad and my Sophomore year English teacher.”

“Your English teacher?” There was a smile in her voice.

“And soon-to-be stepmom.”

Abbey just laughed for a few moments into it dissolved into a chuckle and then into silence.

“I miss you, CJ.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Isn’t it funny? It’s only been few days. I hardly see you than often anyway.”

“But no conference calls. No meetings. No events. And remember, I typically spend most of my day talking about you or thinking about you,” CJ said. _Was that too much? It’s not like she’s lying. Abbey_ is _her job_.

“CJ,” Abbey started.

“It’s my job,” CJ blurted out.

“I know,” Abbey almost sounded disappointed. “I can’t help but hope you think about me a little more than that. After all, I thought about you enough to call you, and it’s Christmas Day,” Abbey laughed and the sound got more distant. “Oh, Claudia Jean. What am I saying?”

CJ didn’t know what to say.

“You don’t have to answer that.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be,” CJ sighed and ran her hand up her forehead and through her hair. “I do think of you. I picked up on the first ring, after all.”

They both laughed.

“God, we’re like schoolgirls,” Abbey chuckled. “When do I see you?”

“Three days,” CJ said with a smile. “A lot of rallies next week. Making up for lost time.”

“I guess I’ll just have to wait it out,” Abbey said, voice filled with unmasked fondness and longing.


	7. The New Hampshire Debate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Public scrutiny of the Barrington for America campaign heats up as Abbey goes into a key debate in New Hampshire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super important, but I fudged with their ages a little bit. I usually assume Abbey and CJ were born in 1944 and 1964, but for this AU’s purposes, let’s assume it’s more like 1950 and 1959 (Allison Janney’s actual birth year), respectively.  
> Also, there’s some period-typical homophobia in this chapter. (I can’t believe I just wrote “period-typical” about the 90s).
> 
> ALSO huge shout-out to everyone who has commented on this fic!! literally every comment fills me with joy <3

The Barrington campaign bus traipsed across the rolling landscape of Iowa in the weeks before the caucus, stopping at rallies and fundraisers. Time spent in the headquarters was just as busy, with every able body on the phone, chattering away. The campaign had kicked into a higher gear.

Abbey was in a constant whirlwind of travel, not particularly keeping track of where she was at any given moment, just hoping that her staff had coordinated to get her to the correct location to do what she needed to do. But it was exhilarating. And Abbey wouldn’t trade it for anything.

CJ wouldn’t trade the campaign for anything, either. Here she was, in a meaningful job, one she had studied for, worked for, with the smartest people she had ever met. And she was valued. Very valued, she hoped. 

In mid-January, CJ, Josh, Sam, and Toby crowded around a small TV in the Des Moines office. The headline “Extreme Liberal Barrington Gaining” crawled across the bottom of the screen.

“This,” Josh started, staring with his arms crossed. “Is not going to be good.”

“Really?” Toby asked him sarcastically.

CJ unmuted the television. The news commentators, indistinct from one another, rolled on. 

“Look, we need to talk about her campaign manager—“

“—Leo McGarry.”

“Yes, Leo McGarry.”

“He’s a homosexual!”

“Her campaign manager is gay. And he is married to one of Governor Barrington’s oldest—male—friends.”

“Well, let’s not be too loose with the term ‘marriage’ here. They had a ceremony performed by a friend of theirs, but I’d hardly call it a marriage.”

“I think we need to be concerned about this—“

“I agree.”

“—I mean, a Barrington presidency could become the launching point for the gay agenda!”

“Yes, I completely agree with you. We don’t need some ‘fag hag’ in the Oval Office.” 

“We certainly do not.”

“I wouldn’t even be so sure as to calling her that, I mean she is in her forties—“

“Forty-eight!”

“—her forties—and she is not—never has been—married.”

“That’s certainly reason to suspect—“

“ _Two_ reasons to suspect!”

Suddenly, the doors to the building swung open and a chilly January gust entered the room. The four staffers swiveled to see Leo had returned, Abbey in tow. 

“Mute it,” Toby whispered. 

Sam did. They looked at Leo and Abbey wide-eyed and mute as the television.

“Don’t worry,” Leo started. “I heard it.”

The staff nodded. 

“A quick word, Abbey?” Leo motioned to his office

“Of course,” Abbey followed him, adding a nod to the top staff and some polite waves to the volunteers who were unused to her presence. 

Leo shut the door. 

“Abbey,” He started, looking almost sheepish.

“What?”

“Sit down.”

She did.

“I’m sorry, Abbey,” Leo sighed. 

“Leo, don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”

“I can resign.”

“Leo!” Abbey rose from her chair. “What has gotten into you?”

“A campaign manager should help his candidate’s chances, not endanger them,” Leo stated gravely.

“You’re the reason I got this far. You’re not leaving me. I’m not letting you, Leo,” Abbey stared until Leo looked into her eyes. They shared some silence.

“Just promise me, Abbey, that if I ever start hurting your campaign, you’ll let me resign.”

“Sure, Leo, Sure. When pigs fly,” She chuckled, and Leo was looking more like himself.

——

“Where is she?” CJ stomped through the halls behind a stage in New Hampshire where the democratic nominees would soon debate.

“She’s not with you?” Sam asked.

“No. She’s not with you?”

“I bet she’s with Leo,” Josh joined in, followed by a blonde that CJ didn’t recognize.

“You have to get to the spin room,” the blonde told him.

“Thanks,” Josh waved her off.

“Who’s that?” CJ asked.

“Donna.”

“Donna?”

“My assistant.”

“Your assistant?”

“Yeah. Donna,” Josh said and then fled the scene for the spin room.

CJ turned to Sam. “Do you know who that is?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Donna.”

“You’re no help,” CJ sped away, still searching for Abbey, then called back to Sam. “And you get to the spin room, too! Go! We have five minutes!”

——

Abbey was standing in the green room socializing with the other candidates when CJ found her. The spokesperson slowed her hurry to a brisk jaunt as not to draw attention to herself as she navigated towards Abbey.

“We have five minutes, ma’am,” CJ whispered into her ear, nodding at the opponent (polling at five percent, CJ remembered from that morning) Abbey was talking with.

“Excuse me, Senator, I’m being told we have five minutes and I’m sure my staff wants to mess with me a little more before I have to get out there,” Abbey said with a polite smile and a handshake. She turned to exit the room alongside CJ.

“Sorry about that,” CJ said. “But you asked for some early notice.”

“Oh, no, thank you, CJ. That man is hideously boring and his breath smells like garlic. You’re a godsend.”

The two women entered a secluded hall, passing one of the building’s employees, who told them that candidate had three minutes until they were to line up in the wings. Abbey and CJ leaned against the cinderblock walls near a glowing exit sign.

“You remember everything?” CJ asked.

“Of course.”

“I just don’t want you to blank out before you go on.”

“Claudia Jean, debates are what I live for. I’m gonna be fine.”

“I know you are, Abbey,” CJ said, so sure of it, but still so worried of what defeat would do to Abbey. Wonderful, smart Abbey, who was likely about to get a giant spike in polling numbers, who was standing right in front of CJ, staring up at her, smiling at CJ with her shining red lips. 

Suddenly, looking into Abbey’s eyes like that, CJ got a terrible idea. A terrible idea that she couldn’t wait to put into action.

She glanced to the side, just to make sure that no one was wandering around the bend in the hallway. Because this terrible idea of CJ’s was only a terrible idea if it involved ore people than just CJ and Abbey. Between the two of them, CJ’s idea was _great_.

And so, with the hallway all clear, CJ leaned down and kissed Abbey.

It was quick, it was an eternity, it was an undisclosed amount of time that was just enough for CJ to know that she _enjoyed_ kissing Abbey, _liked it_.

“Candidates in the wings, final call!” The voice came from someone in the adjoining hall— _no one saw it_ , CJ thought in relief.

“I guess that’s my queue,” Abbey said with a smirk, releasing CJ’s arms from a hold she never realized they were in. CJ just stared blankly as the Governor stomped away towards the stage, turning back just in time to give a little wink before she disappeared.

_Uh, oh._

_——_

CJ hustled to the spin room, oscillating between panic and chiding herself. The halls were almost completely abandoned, thank goodness, so no one had to see her nerves so frayed. She stopped just outside the spin room and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to think about herself, or about Abbey; now was the time to think of Governor Barrington.

With that, she walked into the room, just as the candidates were being announced and filing onstage. Most of the Barrington campaign team’s eyes were glued to the screen, as if they had all bet on the same racehorse and the starting gate had just been opened. 

But Toby caught CJ’s eye as she joined the group. He motioned with his finger, swiping at the edge of his lips. _You’ve got something_ , he mouthed. CJ rubbed a finger on the same spot on her face and looked down to inspect it: bright red lipstick. 

CJ’s head snapped up to meet Toby’s eyes. He signaled a thumbs up and mouthed _you got it_. 

_Thanks_ , she mouthed back, trying to keep the panic inside her from rising as Abbey was introduced onscreen. She watched as Toby faced the TV, as they switched to Abbey’s closeup. She watched Abbey smile, white teeth framed by bright red lips.


	8. Personally and Professionally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abbey and CJ ease into their new relationship as the Barrington for America campaign gains traction in the primaries.

The New Hampshire debate was decisive. It was a win for Governor Barrington.

The staffers rejoiced as they all swirled back to the hotel in a flurry of adrenaline and victory. CJ could almost forget what happened before the debate.

Washing off her makeup in the damned hotel bathroom lighting, CJ heard a forceful knocking on the door.

“One second,” she called, haphazardly wiping her face on the hand towel. She scurried to the door, wondering if there was an option to ignore the knock and just go to sleep instead. 

“Claudia Jean,” said a very distinct, very determined voice on the other side of the door. 

_Shit_. CJ opened the door anyway.

“Good evening. Morning,” CJ smiled hesitantly, dipping her head to one side.

“Hi there,” Abbey smiled. And waited. “Can I come in?”

“Yes. Yep,” CJ moved out of the doorframe and Abbey slid past her, sitting on the corner of the bed. CJ shut the door and locked it.

“We should talk,” Abbey said, staring up at CJ who, god help her, was still leaning on the door, hands behind her back, like a trapped animal.

“Yeah,” CJ said to the floor. “I’ll resign. I understand. Completely. I won’t talk to anybody, not the press, no one. You don’t have to worry.”

“What? I don’t want you to resign!” Abbey looked incredulous. 

“Then I can forget about it, Abbey, I really can.”

“Jesus Christ, CJ, that’s not what I’m asking,” Abbey got up and moved cautiously towards CJ, smoothing her hands across her arms. CJ didn’t flinch.

“Then what you asking?” CJ asked lamely.

“What do you want to be to me, Claudia Jean? My spokeswoman, my friend, or,” she took a deliberate pause, like the riveting speaker she had just shown herself to be in the debate. “Would you like to be more?”

“Abbey-“

“No, forget about everything else for a moment, CJ. You have three options.”

CJ paused. “More,” she said, almost whispering.

“I thought so,” Abbey’s brash tone turned into butter. “I really do care about you, Claudia Jean.”

Abbey wrapped her arms around CJ’s narrow back. CJ returned the action, running her fingertips through Abbey’s dark hair, stiff with hairspray. 

“You smell like soap,” Abbey giggled into CJ’s chest.

CJ giggled back. The two women smiled at each other. It turned into a full-throated laugh until it faded out again. Abbey tilted her head up to CJ, who took the offer of another kiss.

——

CJ was old enough to know that kisses weren’t magic. 

But she was also old enough to know what a bad kiss was like—and each kiss from Abbey was the exact opposite of bad. It had been so long since she dated, even had a fling, that she had forgotten the comfort that simply having an object of affection could bring. 

And then there was _being_ an object of affection herself. Little glances across the office from Abbey, nudging her foot under the conference table. CJ couldn’t tell if the looks had changed or just the feeling behind them. 

There was little private time to be had so hot on the debate’s heels. In a few days New Hampshire would head to the voting booth, while Iowa geared up for the caucus. Meanwhile, the campaign was gearing up for Iowa. 

“Where’s Hoynes?” Josh shouted across the room. 

“Predicted to win,” Toby mumbled.

“And Wiley?”

“Predicted to be there,” Sam chirped.

“And us?”

“Getting there,” Toby said, looking at CJ with questions in his eyes.

“There are two other candidates polling in the same range as us, within the margin of error,” CJ explained. “So no one knows who’s actually leading.”

“That’s a fun trick, CJ, sounding just like Toby,” Josh said with deflated irony.

“Let me finish,” She leaned forward onto the table. “The other two candidates are just like each other, and just like Wiley. White men over the age of sixty-five. You couldn’t separate them in the lineup, by looks or by platforms. To stand out, Abbey just needs to be Abbey.”

“I like the sound of that,” A delighted, warm voice boomed from the doorway. The Governor seemed to have materialized there out of thin air. She crossed to stand behind CJ, resting a hand on her shoulder. It could have been her imagination, but CJ felt like her shoulder was burning under Abbey’s hand. She was almost paranoid that the rest of the staff could see it, that Sam would soon jump up yelling “fire!” and throw his glass of water onto her suit jacket. But nothing happened.

——

The day of the New Hampshire primary, CJ jaunted through the familiar street in Manchester, coffee in hand, finally used to the cold. She felt braced, with the wind cool on her cheeks. It reminded her of growing up in Dayton. 

Lost in her own mood, she didn’t notice a short redheaded man waiting by the doors of the campaign headquarters. 

“Hey!” He called out. CJ ignored him. 

He moved to block her way to the door.

“Ms. Cregg, excuse me,” He smiled non-threateningly and gave ground.

She stopped, in too good a mood to be pissed off. 

“Yes?”

“I’m Danny Concannon, Washington Post,” He reached out his hand and they shook.

“I know you. Single Mother’s Fund article,” CJ said with a smirk.

“That would be me. The Post has me covering the Barrington campaign now.”

“Lucky us,” _New Hampshire really did change things_ , CJ thought.

“Lucky me,” Danny said with a smile.

CJ gave him an amused look. 

“You gonna give me a press pass or what?”

CJ almost broke out into a cackle. “Come right in.”

——

“Are you worried?” Leo whispered in Abbey’s ear.

_Pfft._

“Leo, are you kidding me?” Abbey responded, much louder. They stood at one end of a hotel event room, in a sort of makeshift VIP area. TVs around the room were broadcasting various news channels’ first numbers for the New Hampshire primary on closed captions, while peppy music blared overhead. 

“I’m just checking, Abbey, anything can happen.”

“I’ve never lost an election,” Abbey looked pointedly at him.

“O-kay, but you need to get ready for the feeling when it isn’t New Hampshire we’re looking at. How do you think South Carolina’s gonna like you?”

Abbey just smiled smugly back. “I’ll get used to it when it happens.”

“You’re something,” Leo chuckled as he meandered over to a table of catered hors devours. He picked one up and sniffed it before taking a bite.

“What do they call people like my husband now?” Jed’s voice carried just as far as he intended it and got Leo’s attention. 

“A ‘foodie’, I believe,” CJ laughed back at him as they approached the Campaign Manager, now looking far less amused.

“How’s the quiche, Leo?” Jed asked sardonically.

“Ha, ha,” Leo deadpanned through a mouthful of pastry.

“I’m getting a drink. You want a drink?” CJ asked the pair.

Jed lifted his half-full glass, motioning that he was at his limit.

“Leo?”

“No, thanks, CJ,” The crumbs were gone and he sounded like his old self.

“You deserve a drink to relax,” CJ asked again.

“He doesn’t want a drink, CJ,” Jed cut her off with a terse smile. 

“Well, I’ll see if Abbey wants one,” CJ excused herself.

——

Hours later and seven stories in the air, Abbey flung open the door of her hotel room triumphantly. Beaming, she stalked inside to throw her blazer on the bed. CJ followed and shut the door.

“Abbey, you are…” CJ trailed off, smiling and staring at Abbey with adoring eyes. 

Abbey crossed the room and took CJ’s lapels in her hands, dragging her lips down into a ravenous kiss. CJ gasped as she threaded her fingers through Abbey’s hair. 

“You,” CJ whispered between kisses. “You have to give a speech.”

“It can wait. CNN, NBC, they can wait,” She whispered back, holding CJ’s face in her hands now, staring into her eyes. CJ ran her fingertips up to Abbey’s wrists and rubbed at them, apologies in her eyes.

“Not too long,” Abbey backtracked. Then that smile again. “Just a little longer.”

Governor Barrington was twenty minutes late to her speech, but nobody cared; She had just won the first primary of the election.

——

“Look alive, everyone, we’ve got a hell of a day ahead of us,” Leo shouted across the Des Moines office the morning of the caucus. As CJ passed by him, she caught him whispering to Josh: “You’re doing good, kid.”

“Hey CJ,” Danny’s already-too-familiar voice rang out.

“Hit me,” CJ kept walking to her office. Danny kept stride.

“What would be a win for Governor Barrington today?” He asked, notepad in hand and pen ready. 

“In the caucus? A solid third. The voters here are just getting to know the Governor—“

“So you don’t think the candidate’s platform is clear?”

“Danny, you know what I’m saying.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t print it.”

“A win would be Governor Barrington coming in a solid third. We’re establishing her as a steady presence in this campaign season and we think we’ve done a good job at reaching out to voters in Iowa,” CJ said frankly.

They both paused.

“Thanks,” Danny said.

“Leave now,” CJ spoke her mind with a little edge. 

“Good luck today!” Danny added as they smiled their goodbyes.

——

“There’s this reporter from The Washington Post,” CJ said. “I think he’s trying to flirt with me.”

Abbey appeared from the hotel bathroom wearing a smart navy pantsuit. 

“Who wouldn’t try and flirt with you, Claudia Jean?” She smiled.

CJ gave Abbey a look and opened and closed her mouth a few times, feeling like a fish. Abbey’s smile just got wider. 

“Anyway, he’s covering the campaign,” CJ grabbed a lint roller from the dresser and walked towards Abbey.

“We’re moving up in the world,” Abbey said as she turned around so CJ could de-lint her back.

“This suit looks great.”

“You think it’s a good choice?”

“Both personally and professionally,” CJ tapped Abbey’s shoulders to indicate that she could turn back around.

“Well, I’m two for two then, aren’t I?” Abbey smiled up at CJ, whose expression mirrored her own. They gave each other a peck on the lips. 

“Ready, Abbey?” CJ whispered. 

“Always,” She smirked like a kid with a secret.

——

It was just as CJ had predicted. Hoynes was the clear winner of the caucus, with Wiley next and Governor Barrington close behind. Abbey got on stage in a Des Moines venue in her navy suit and gave a speech written by Toby and Sam that was somehow both rousing and humble. Leo was happy, so Josh was happy. And when Abbey’s eyes sought out CJ’s at the back of the venue, they both were happy too.


End file.
